


Polaroids in Negative (I Could Have Loved You)

by viraseii



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Depression, Eventual Smut, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Knifeplay, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Keith (Voltron), Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Will be explicit later, background hunay, eventually, this was supposed to be pwp but then it grew a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24385369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viraseii/pseuds/viraseii
Summary: Today at 01:19Me:maybe i’ll fuck a balmeran dude. Two stones one shoeMe:thats not how the saying goes is itMe:well since hunk won’t tell me what its like i’ve decided it’s on me to unravel the secrets of balmeran copulationMe:hey do you think i’m attractiveToday at 04:53Keith:I think you’re a slut.Today at 19:04Me::(Me:It’s true but you shouldn’t say itHow do you find it in yourself to love again when the one person you gave everything to is gone?-Honestly just some self indulgent post-war klance
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 30
Kudos: 72





	1. Picking up Strings

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to kaitlyn who was like “i dont understand the knife kink” to which i went owo?? except there isn't even any knifeplay in this chapter. but we’ll get there. she can have this anyway. She also suggested I name it "maybe the therapy we needed were the friends we made all along (and that one therapist I'm banging)" do with that what you will

Keith is hot.

Lance figures the best way to _not_ have a crisis over how hot Keith is to just… acknowledge that Keith is hot. He’s got that tiny tiny body filled with all that power - the way his blade suit hugs him in all the right - in _all_ the places. Everywhere. There’s not an inch of this man that isn’t toned to hell and back. So, yeah, _objectively,_ Keith is hot. Just, factually speaking.

Allura is hot too - but in a different way. Allura is hot in the way that when Lance looks at her, he falls into her eyes and just keeps falling. Hot in the way that when she suits up and swings around her bayard like _that,_ Lance’s finger stalls on the trigger because now it feels like _he’s_ the one getting shot in the chest. Allura is hot in the way that when she kisses him for the last time, when her tears fall on his cheeks and all he can see is white, white, white - something breaks and scatters in a thousand tiny pieces to all the corners of the world. His heart, probably.

There was this moment - a mission, on planet Kiinit, when - Keith, but Lance didn’t know it yet - one Blade in particular had somehow found a way to slow down time. They were heading a joint mission. There was a rebel outpost that’d been overtaken by a couple of the Galra’s lower level commanders, and it was annoying but there were lives at stake and Matt had requested they send a small team over so it was Lance, and Pidge, and a handful of Blades - anyway.

They were supposed to do recon so they could plan an efficient strike later. And Lance is great at that subtle stuff. And the Blades are great at that subtle stuff. And Pidge is … smart, so. They should not have had much trouble, but Warlord Inyen was heading this from the shadows. Not ten minutes in, their communications were disrupted and of course they were here on their speeders because two giant lions are _not_ very inconspicuous, and of course they split up so of course Lance finds himself on a perch high atop a natural cliff ridge watching for movement and the telltale purple glow of Marmoran armor and finding _nothing, nothing, nothing_ and of course there’s a blow landing to the back of his head and that’s the last thing he remembers from that.

Anyway, there was this moment when they were making their escape, and Lance was fighting with his sword against two of Inyen’s commanders at once, and one managed to disarm him and pin him to the wall. And he _couldn’t reach his bayard_ so a Blade member grabbed it and it _morphed_ into something stouter and heavier and at a different angle and then it was being thrust right through the Commander. Mercilessly, stopping only once the tip was pressing uncomfortably into the small of Lance’s back. The Blade withdrew and the Commander fell, and then the Blade was _all up in Lance’s space_ and Pidge may yell at him sometimes for being unnecessarily horny at the most inappropriate times but _that’s a little personal?_ And they were pressing the bayard into Lance’s hands and moving away and with all the force of a wave breaking over your head it _hits him._ That’s Keith. The red bayard still responds to Keith, and thanks to that Keith just saved his life.

There was this moment right then that Lance very much thought, _god, I could die for that man._

But him not dying was the whole point here, so he blinked the thought away and fought hard and in the end Voltron won, like they always do, and he never really got to thank Keith for that. Or see his face.

There was another moment, at a party. After freeing planet Reeven, they were attending a formal gala to celebrate Voltron and touch base with the coalition and plan their next moves for the rebellion, and Lance might have had a drink or two. The Blades were probably the few groups attending dressed not to dance but to fight, prepared to act at a moment’s notice like the warriors they make themselves into during every waking hour.

Maybe Lance was missing his friend. Maybe he just needed to blow off steam. Maybe he was bored. He picked out someone in the crowd, all lean body and glowy purple eyes and silent, watchful stance, walked up to them, slung his arm around them, snorting a little at the immediate jump - not very touchy feely, the Blades.

“Nice party? Enjoying yourself?” he asked them, voice maybe a little too loud. He wasn’t sure.

The Blade shrugged.

“Not much of a talker, huh? It’s okay, one of ours left to join y’all, he wasn’t very chatty either. You Galra the strong and silent type? Dunno, it’s surprising. Sendak loved running his mouth off about weaknesses and empires.” He took another sip of his drink. “So what’s your name?”

The Blade recoiled, which - okay, what, was that offensive or something - and reached up to push their hood back. The masked dropped to reveal a familiar scowl. “You didn’t recognize me?”

Lance blinked, then flushed, stepping back. “You’re wearing a mask! You’re all wearing masks!”

Keith glared at him. “So you just start chatting up whoever you see - actually, why am I even surprised.” He shrunk back against the piller they were initially leaning against. “Please don’t compare me to Sendak.” And that was the other moment - a beat after that mask shimmered and faded away, that Lance was absolutely _exhilarated_ at seeing his friend again. Was Keith getting taller? Still shorter than Lance, though, which was what really counted here. Lance leaned back against the pillar so they could continue chatting.

He studied him out of the corner of his eye. God, he missed him. (All of them did, obviously.) His sheer power when piloting - Lance could never match what Keith had with Red. His determination. His stupid humor, the way he never understood _anything_ and how that was unfairly cute. The dumb smirk he’d get on his face when he’s fucking shit up. It’s not there now - Keith’s face now is serene, bored, endlessly surveying the party scene like he can never be too cautious.

There was a moment - when Keith went after Shiro. A long, long moment that spanned several hours and blurred together all the same. He could feel Keith, sometimes, through Red’s fiery love for the both of them - the intensity of Keith’s determination flowed through Red and through Lance like Voltron was its home. There was a moment that it had faltered and Lance had choked on tears welling up unbidden, a moment that he knew Keith had _given up._ He thought he could see him, almost - glassy eyed, resigned, and his only thought:

_Since when did you back down from a fight?_

Lance had never felt any connection with Black, but at that moment - he swore the Black Lion had reached out to him, touched his anguish with a single wingtip and given him just enough reassurance to carry on. He didn’t get to talk to Keith about it later. But he knew without a doubt that Keith would have died on that day without Black.

That was the longest single moment of agony Lance has ever felt in his life.

-

Lance feels like he’s back at the Reevenic Gala. Keith eats lightly, even at this great feast they’ve laid out. It’s been nearly a year since Lance saw him last. He looks almost the same, but in so many ways he is nothing like the Keith Lance knew when they started this out. He has the same signature long hair but it’s getting _even longer,_ now - Keith’s going to grow a fish tail soon and disappear into the sea to become a siren. He has the same defiant jaw but it pairs well with his broad chest and confident posture. Lance never noticed before how small Keith used to make himself.

None of them really know what they’re doing, now - well, Pidge does. Pidge is thriving. Arguably, Hunk is too - the man was never built for war and the cultural ambassador position is suiting him a thousand times better. But Lance feels like he’s lost, like he’s on Earth only physically and whatever he’s supposed to have inside of him that gives him life is still out there in the quintessence rift - still searching. Sometimes he dreams that he can still hear her. Sometimes he dreams of Lotor’s dying screams. Sometimes he dreams of Plaxum in her underwater paradise and sometimes he dreams that he’s died a horrible death and is now living right alongside her.

Keith is hot, and maybe that would mean something to a Lance in a different reality, but it’s not like that matters. It’s not like it ever mattered, really. What matters is that Lance chose Allura and she left - he chose one thing to fight for and the universe took that from him, and what does he have now? Not a universe of technology and knowledge waiting to be engineered. Not a thousand different cultures and histories waiting to be immortalized. Not even the weak and the downtrodden to uplift and help - Lance is saving nothing, making nothing, living for nothing.

Keith has barely eaten.

They make eye contact, briefly - Lance’s lips curve on instinct into a smile and the one Keith returns is _so genuine_ it hurts. This war has taken so much from them, including Keith’s fear.

-

“You looked pretty hot in that suit.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at him, and Pidge chokes on her salad. “Am I supposed to say thank you?”

“No, it’s true,” Hunk nods, giving Keith an appraising look. “Lance is also just a horny bastard, though, so I’d ignore him.”

“Did…” Lance gapes at his best friend. “Did you just _swear?_ ”

“Bastard isn’t a swear word,” Pidge mumbles, but her eyes are still boring into Lance like he’s sprouted another head.

“Wh- yes it is! What the _heck._ ” Lance looks back to Keith for confirmation, but Keith is just staring at him, his old Marmoran chestplate hanging from limp arms. There’s an expression growing there that actually _scares_ Lance and he doesn’t want to find out what it is so he looks away as fast as he can from that slowly rising smile.

“It’s small on me now,” Keith says, and there’s something almost cheerful in his tone that Lance wants to squash out immediately. “But I’m sure it could fit you, Lance.” With that he tosses the chestplate Lance’s way, and Lance lets out an affronted shriek as he catches it and immediately throws it to his side.

“No way! I don’t want your sweaty armor. You were always the stinkiest one of us.” Lance scowls and crosses his arms for good measure.

Keith rolls his eyes, picking up the rest of his suit before reaching for the chestplate and then disappearing into the cargo hold of his ship.

“Man,” Hunk says for the eighteenth time. Lance is counting. “I want my own ship.” His eyes trace over the smooth curves of Keith’s new interceptor. Pidge has been working on it with Ina and a few others for the better part of the last six months, and it’s finally ready to fly. Hunk is taking this as a personal loss.

As for Lance, well. He’ll be glad if he never has to set foot in a ship again, frankly. “You can just buy one, Hunk,” he says instead.

Hunk shakes his head. “I don’t have any money.”

“Because you donate literally _everything-_ ”

Pidge cuts him off. “Yeah, Hunk, you know it’s okay to be a little selfish sometimes.”

Hunk lets out an affronted noise. “That’s not... it!!”

“Your little sister has a ship and she doesn’t even know how to pilot,” Pidge points out.

He pouts. “She likes to play in it.”

Lance snorts.

Keith comes back out and leans one arm against the side of his ship, crossing one of his legs over another. “You can pilot whenever we’re travelling together, Hunk,” he offers.

Lance thinks Hunk actually gets those anime sparkles in his eyes.

-

Allura speaks to him, sometimes. It’s vague, like a feeling - but she left some small part of her spirit with him and it resides in his heart. He knows what she wants - she just wants Lance to be _happy,_ but it’s hard to be happy when he wakes up sometimes hearing phantom alarms going off in his head, when sometimes he clutches Veronica to his chest tightly for hours on end the nights before she’s scheduled to travel off-world, when any time he goes out he’s faced with Earth’s awe of all that he saved and all that he sacrificed and all that he _fought-_ when every time he sees a Galra face in public he tenses and then reminds himself _stop, you’re being racist._

He feels her gentle warmth within him and it keeps him company on his loneliest days.

He can’t get enough of Earth. He loves it too deeply and fully to ever perceive leaving it again. To Pidge, he’s living the “quiet life” he always wanted - not that she wasn’t immediately skeptical as those words left his mouth, but at least she dropped the subject. But in the privacy of his own thoughts, the intimacy he shares with no one but himself and that small sliver of Allura, he knows what this really is. This is holding onto something you thank God every day for being able to have. This is closing your eyes and letting yourself cry into the grass under your body as you lay yourself out under the only constellations you ever thought you’d need to know. This is being unable to shake off just _how close_ they’d cut it. This is being unable to sleep for weeks on end when Keith reports insurgent Galra activity and as a result withdrawing from communication with the man almost entirely.

This is wanting to freeze time, right here and right now, forever - 

This is _paralyzing fear._

He should see someone.

-

He’s fucking his therapist, somehow. It works out because she helps him back but something about her dark skin and her beach-blonde hair extensions - the dark skin / light hair combo has grown immensely popular all around the universe - just hits him and the _way she looks at him_ all soft and the way she _knows him._ She knows all about him and his fears and his past and everything he’s afraid of so when he’s in her bed he can pretend that it’s because she loves him and not because they have some weird sex-for-therapy exchange of services system worked out.

Her name is Altea. Maybe that’s another reason. This is absolutely the worst way to ever hope to move on from Allura but _by god_ he never wants to move on from her. He doesn’t want to forget all the ways in which he loves her. He doesn’t want to ever stop thinking about her smile and that crease between her eyebrows and the purple sheen behind her pupils and the feeling of her hair and _oh god he already can’t really remember exactly how tall she was._

Hunk reminds him gently that it’s been almost two years and of course Lance shouldn’t ever forget about her, but he should really be at least _open_ to the idea of seeing other people.

This… this counts, right?

A lot of people dress up as them for Halloween. Which is weird, because it’s not like Lance ever tried to dress up as George Washington or anything like that, but it is what it is. His house is wildly popular for trick or treating and he really does enjoy seeing all those children with stars in their eyes but he has to retire early because he can’t take another question about Voltron or he might fucking snap. He feels bad letting down all the kids that come after he turns in for the night but he feels worse watching them talk about how badly they want to fight aliens in space and needing to stop himself from saying _the last thing you want to do is watch your teammate take a shot for you in an already hopeless situation and fully believe you’re not going to make it through the next ten minutes._

Altea says he’s traumatized. He forgives her for that, because he figures he’d _also_ be going around pinning false problems on other people if he was named after a planet. Speaking of New Altea, Pidge is set to move there permanently pretty soon. He’s not sure how he feels about that. Hopefully nothing, if things go according to plan. He’s happy for her. That’s it. That’s all he _should_ feel.

He doesn’t have the right to pull her into his chest and beg her to stay. It wouldn’t be fair.

Keith is all smiles nowadays. Lance pretends it doesn’t kill him when he sees his friend on the news, bright eyed and ready to take on the universe, ready to lead like he was born to, while Lance recedes further and further from what he knows of society and fantasizes about just disappearing forever. He doesn’t even make it to the end of the school year before sending his notice of resignation to the Garrison.

The irony is not lost on him.

The second time they meet up on Allura Remembrance Day, Hunk has a girl. (It’s Shay, Shay’s the girl.) She’s spent the last couple years learning all that she can about the world after living _literally under a rock her whole life,_ and she began accompanying Hunk on his diplomatic missions a few months back. They play it off as silly as they can, walking them through formal introductions like they weren’t all there years ago when Hunk was in denial about liking her.

Lance has to wonder how they make that work, like _physically,_ but when he brings it up Hunk turns redder than Lance has EVER seen him and immediately clams the fuck up, claiming Lance is shameless (which Lance knew already.) Lance decides he’s going to have to fuck a Balmeran at least once. Just to find out. Like, for science and all that. Hunk asks him if he seriously has nothing better to do. Why doesn’t he try to settle down with someone?

“I’ve got a therapist,” Lance points out.

“You’re friends with benefits with a therapist,” Hunk amends for him.

“You are?” Keith cuts in, and there’s something like concern in his tone? Whack. Keith has always made no sense to Lance. Not to mention, he kind of forgot Keith is here. He flew Hunk and Shay in and while Shay has long since left to do whatever, Keith has been sitting quietly the whole time.

“Yeah,” Lance rolls his eyes. “And in return for my dick she gives me free therapy.”

“But you’re rich,” Keith says with furrowed eyebrows. There’s a light rosy tint to his cheeks. Lance smirks at him.

“Some payment is better than money.”

“Ew, Lance,” Hunk scowls, smacking him with a pillow. Keith looks vaguely uncomfortable. Lance just snickers.

They’re chilling inside of Keith’s ship, which he still hasn’t named (typical.) It’s spacious and well decorated inside, and Lance is more than a little jealous. Ina has somehow managed to design the ship so it seems magically bigger on the inside, and Lance is a little taken aback at how much space there is to just sit and chat. He stretches his arms up, failing to touch the roof from where he sits.

“Do you guys ever sleep in this thing?”

Hunk nods. “Cots fold down from up there-” he gestures to a hand loop sticking out of the wall. “Kinda like in those old overnight trains.”

Lance hums, and then he opens his mouth to say more but Hunk must know what’s coming because he grabs the knee that Lance has propped up on the seat and pushes it up, tipping Lance over. He shrieks and topples unceremoniously to the ridged grates that make up the floor, hissing as his elbow bangs into a corner. Keith cracks up.

“Don’t say anything gross,” Hunk warns him. Lance pouts, rolling upright and crossing his arms.

“I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you were.”

“... Fine.” He turns to Keith. “What about you? Seeing anyone? Are you gonna bring home a rock girlfriend like Hunk? If you do, I expect full details.”

“Lance, I swear to god-” Lance shushes Hunk in favor of hearing Keith’s answer.

Keith shifts. “No.”

“Why?”

Keith frowns at him, like this question doesn’t make any sense.

“Why aren’t you seeing anyone? There are so many hot space babes out there! You’ve got to run into at least a handful of them on all those missions you go on. And I know you’re kinda dense with this stuff, so let me let you in on a secret - girls _totally_ dig it when you play the Former Voltron Paladin card.” Lance looks at Keith expectantly.

“First of all, I’m not interested in women,” Keith says. He looks at Lance meaningfully, but Lance isn’t sure what exactly that meaning is supposed to be. “Second of all, I’m… waiting.”

“Aw,” Hunk smiles, but Lance lets out a huff of laughter.

“Waiting for _what??_ And what do you mean you’re not interested in women? Are you gay?”

“Yeah.”

Lance chokes. “Wait, really?”

Keith grins at him. “You asked.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to say _yes!”_ He pauses, considering Keith from where he’s still sitting on the floor. “So what are you waiting for? You know, your perfect boyfriend isn’t just going to drop in on your ship in the middle of one of your humanitarian missions.”

Keith shrugs. “Guess we’ll find out.” There’s an odd smile on his face.

Lance pouts at him. “You gotta try! You gotta-”

Keith cuts him off. “What are _you_ waiting for, Lance?” And that shuts Lance up immediately. “Cuz my answer depends on yours.” Lance holds a finger up, but then the second sentence Keith said registers and his brain grinds to a halt. What does that even mean??

There’s loud banging footsteps right then, and then Pidge is jumping down through the hole in the roof like there isn’t a ladder right there. “Sup, boys!” She grins. “Why’s Lance on the floor? Hey Hunk, Keith! Get out of here, come enjoy the sunshine.” With that she hits a button and the small cargo hold at the back of the ship opens up, sunlight streaming in. Lance squints. “Come on! This is our annual get together, we’re not gonna spend it moping around in this impressively engineered ship.”

Hunk offers a hand to Lance to help him up, and they follow Pidge out to meet Shiro, who must have just arrived with her.

-

What is Lance waiting for?

He’s waiting for Allura, to be honest. Which is stupid. Allura’s not coming back. And yet. And yet.

Other than that? What does he want? What is he waiting for? To feel something, maybe. He’s waiting for someone to come into his life that’ll actually make him _want_ to try dating again.

Until then. He’s stuck.

-

Lance sits up suddenly. Altea stirs, blinking sleepily before reaching up to rub her hand up and down his bicep. She lets out a questioning hum.

“He’s seen the future,” Lance says.

The stroking stops. “What..?”

“Keith, my- y'know, my - Keith. He, uh… in the rift, he saw bits and pieces of the future.”

Altea blinks at him again, owlish in the low light from her salt lamp. “Mhmm… and?”

Lance rubs his hands up and down his face. That was his answer. What Keith was waiting for. Keith really did have everything figured out. He probably knew exactly when and where he was gonna meet his soulmate. God, what Lance would give to have that kind of reassurance. Right now, in the middle of the night, warm hands running up and down his arms and back, it’s easy to admit what he’s really afraid of.

Is he ever gonna love again? Does he even deserve to love again?

“Lance?”

“Yeah. Nothing. I just… nothing.”

Altea sighs. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

… Fuck.

-

Keith isn’t going to be returning to Earth in time for Allura Remembrance Day next year. He’s on a mission to a system that’s scheduled to take at least a year and a half from start to finish. The worst part isn’t even that - it’s that Lance finds out about it from _Acxa._

Actually, he finds out about it from Veronica, who lets it slip in casual conversation unaware that it’s news to Lance.

The next time Acxa’s over, Lance says it by accident: “Did you know Keith was gay?”

Veronica snorts, and Acxa looks over at him. “What does that mean?”

“Gay, love,” Veronica says. “When someone on Earth loves another person of the same gender.”

Acxa nods slowly. “Like you?”

“Yup.”

She nods again. “No, I thought he didn’t love anyone.”

Lance laughs at that. But really, he’s still upset that he knew Keith for _so long_ and still somehow never SUSPECTED he was gay. _How_ could he not know this??

-

 **2 days ago at 16:34  
Me:** how long have you been gay?

 **Yesterday at 02:04  
Keith:** idk

 **Yesterday at 08:20  
Me:** ok ik that was a dumb question but like when did you figure it out  
**Me:** Like what boys’ sweet sweet ass did you see and think “oh fuck i wanna tap that”

 **Today at 01:19  
Keith:** I literally don’t know lance  
**Keith:** I don’t think i ever assumed I was straight

 **Me:** Garrison?

 **Keith:** ?

 **Me:** Did you know when we were cadets?

 **Keith:** yeah  
**Keith:** gtg

 **Me:** well fuck  
**Me:** not that there’s anything wrong with being gay dude my sisters gay  
**Me:** but like  
**Me:** how the fuck did we not know?!?!?!?  
**Me:** i mean like more than a year out in space with only each other as company  
**Me:** i never knew that you liked penis!!!  
**Me:** whats it like  
**Me:** i think i might be gay too for waht its worth  
**Me:** i mena obviously not full homo because like. yknow  
**Me:** but like half  
**Me:** like bi? Or pansexual i guess?  
**Me:** genders weird in space remember that planet with the sixteen different bathrooms and i was like my dude do you have just. A hole in the ground fo rme. I promise im not picky.  
**Me:** i mean i liek women  
**Me:** but i feel like i wouldnt be opposed to fuckin a dude yknow  
**Me:** maybe i’ll fuck a balmeran dude. Two stones one shoe  
**Me:** thats not how the saying goes is it  
**Me:** well since hunk won’t tell me what its like i’ve decided it’s on me to unravel the secrets of balmeran copulation  
**Me:** hey do you think i’m attractive

 **Today at 04:53**  
**Keith:** I think you’re a slut.

 **Today at 19:04**  
**Me:** :(  
**Me:** It’s true but you shouldn’t say it

-

Altea informs him gently one night that she thinks they should stop seeing each other like this. Lance can’t agree more. For one, he still needs to fuck a Balmeran, which he can’t do while he’s with Altea - not that they’re exclusive, but Lance just kinda doesn’t _feel_ like sleeping around while he’s still with Altea.

He expects it to hurt, like at least a _little,_ and on the one hand he supposes his dick is a little disappointed - but. Honestly… this isn’t cutting it for him. He misses what he had with Allura - the trust, the sincerity, the adoration he felt for her. There’s none of that with Altea - just a body. She’s a great friend. But she’s not what he’s looking for in a partner.

What _is_ he looking for in a partner?

-

He gets his answer late at night a couple months later.

“Hey! You hooked up with your Balmeran Dream Boy yet?”

Lance’s brain short circuits. “Um… Keith?”

“Cuz don’t.”

Something’s missing here. “Are you okay?”

“I did it for you, and the answer is Shay pegs Hunk. Yeah? Because their men have no reproductive genitals, it’s just a hole.”

“Keith???”

“Females have a shaft that’s a little softer, kinda like their eyes - it’s encased in something like calcite but it uh… it’s like an energy exchange. They hold, like, larvae type lifeforms inside them and to reproduce it’s deposited into the male and-”

“KEITH WHAT THE FUCK.”

“What?”

“Are you _drunk??_ ”

A pause. “What gave you that idea.”

Lance is wide awake, now. “Are you or are you not?? Are you piloting?”

“Shay is piloting.”

“So you _are_ drunk.”

There’s a smile in Keith’s voice when he replies. “Why… worried about me?”

Lance lets out an exasperated groan. “I’m more worried about why the _fuck_ you called me in the _middle of the night_ to explain Balmeran reproduction, which is not something I ever wanted to know.” Then he pauses. “Is Hunk there?”

“Yeah. Say hi!”

Hunk’s voice filters through the receiver, and any hope of speaking to someone more sober is instantly dashed - Lance knows what Hunk sounds like when he has been drinking, and the way he says “Heyyyyyyy Lance!” means the man is _fucking wasted._

Lance pinches the bridge of his nose. “You drinking water, big guy?”

“Yeah! What about you? You taking care of yourself?”

He smiles into the darkness of his room. “Yeah, man. Just don’t overdo it, okay? Can you give the phone back to Keith now?”

There’s some shuffling on the other end. Then, Keith’s voice: “He nodded at you, FYI.”

“Cool,” Lance says, laughing. Keith responds immediately, soft laughter coming through the line, and Lance lays back in his bed, smile refusing to fade. “So. Having fun up there, huh?”

“No, not really. Hunk came to visit us on Eia and brought some spirits he picked up on the way from Shono, so we thought we’d try them out. They’re stronger than anticipated.”

“Clearly.” Lance closes his eyes. “You’ve never been a big drinker.”

“I don’t like the taste,” Keith whines into the phone, and Lance wants to laugh - god, he can just _picture_ Keith’s pout right now.

“I know. You’re a baby.” Keith hums into the phone, so deeply satisfied and affectionate that it sounds almost like a purr. “So why’re you drunk dialing me, then?”

“Miss you,” Keith says simply. “What’s going on back home? Anything we should know about?”

Lance considers. “Yeah, Kaltenecker gave birth the other day. We’ve got a little calf, now. Her name is Lily. Nadia named her.”

“Your niece!”

“Yeah.” Lance smiles fondly at the thought of her. “She’s grown real big now.”

“The calf?”

“No, _Nadia._ ” Lance laughs. “What else is new… I ended things with Altea.”

The silence between them is suddenly charged. Keith sounds off when he responds. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I um… figure maybe it’s… time to stop pretending.”

“You’re still seeing her for therapy, right?”

“I haven’t yet.”

“You can talk to me.”

Lance doesn’t say anything.

“We love you, Lance, any of us are willing to listen to you at any time. I’m not the best with words, but I want to help you in any way that I can.”

The thought rises unbidden to Lance’s mind - _come home. If you want to help me, let me see you._

He doesn’t say it.

“Have you… explored any other options, then?”

“Other options?”

“Yeah, you dating?”

And that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it.

Lance can’t fathom dating anyone, if he’s being perfectly fucking honest. No one could possibly be what he needs, not after all that he’s been through. No one he meets now will ever know him like... well, like Allura.

But... “I’d like to, honestly,” Lance murmurs into the phone. “Dunno who. But it’s a goal.” He hesitates, then figures he might as well ask. “What about you? You still waiting?”

Keith answers with a faint hum. “You still think I look hot?”

“Wh-what?”

“You said I look hot in the Marmora suit. It was over a year ago. Still think that?”

“Oh, Christ...” Lance wishes he hadn’t said that. “Ummm...”

“You can answer me later,” Keith says, and Lance knows he’s smirking. “But we both know the answer already, I think.”

“Are- are-...” Lance can’t do it. Can’t bring himself to ask it. Because if Keith _is_ flirting with Lance, it means a lot more than interest. It means Keith is done waiting, and Lance doesn’t know how he’d handle that at all.

Then again - as if Lance could ever be the one Keith will end up with in the future. The thought is so ridiculous it immediately settles Lance’s nerves. Besides, he play-flirts with his friends all the time. This is nothing.

“Yeah, you’ve got looks, Kogane,” he chuckles. The smugness is just oozing off of Keith in this moment, Lance knows it is. “Might even be attractive if you ever cut your hair.”

“You like it long, though.”

“Do not, what.”

“You will.”

Lance doesn’t even know what to say to that.

They end up talking for hours, until Keith starts to sober up. Lance reminds him to drink water until he snaps back, “I gotta piss like a horse Lance, I think I’m hydrated well enough,” to which Lance just loses it.

“Okay, fine,” he laughs. “Consider yourself off the hook.”

-

This is what he’s looking for. Moments that stretch into hours, hours that go by in the blink of an eye. That’s what he needs in a partner - the peril of being completely, dangerously, intimately _known._

He doesn’t know when the tipping point is exactly - whether it was Keith saving Lance’s skin with the red bayard, whether it was the rush of seeing Keith on Reeven for the first time in _goddamn weeks,_ whether it was finding out Keith is gay and subsequently realizing Lance might be a little gay too if he really thought about it, whether it was that night Keith called him drunk and giggly and they talked for hours and hours and hours and it still wasn’t enough. All he knows is that it happens heartachingly slowly and all at once - fast enough that he’s gone before he ever figures out what’s happening.


	2. Precipices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry fucking chrysler

The Allura Day feast is in a few months. It’s still a ways away. But Lance can’t stop thinking about how the one person he misses most won’t even be there.

He hasn’t talked to Keith in a few weeks - something inside him worries at the time that stretches and stretches between them - is he okay? Does he need help? But Lance tries to remind himself that not texting someone back doesn’t mean the other person is fucking dead.

His phone chimes.

Speak of the _fucking_ devil.

“Keith!”

“Lance.”

Lance just takes a moment to drink in the sound of his name on Keith’s lips.

“How’ve you been?”

“Asshole, you never responded to me when I told you about Nadia’s winter formal!”

“... Shit, sorry. I’ve been. Well, uh.”

“Are…” Lance swallows. “Are you alright? Is everything okay over there?”

“Yeah, Lance… I’m fine.” The voice is strained.

Lance knows immediately that Keith is lying.

“Video me,” Lance demands.

“Video sucks _shit,”_ Keith stresses, and he’s _right,_ because Keith is two entire quadrants away, but this is not about that.

“I don’t care, Keith, video me.”

There’s a sigh, and then the button pops up requesting to switch to video. Lance slides it open, and Keith’s beautiful face blooms up on his screen in all of its grainy low-def glory.

He… he does look fine, actually. But he also looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He’s not injured, at least, but his hair is tangled to hell and back and pulled away carelessly. His eyes are sagging and heavy with bags. His jaw is… scruffy??

Lance grins. “Did you finally grow facial hair?”

Keith blushes _fierce._

“How old are you, again? Thirty?”

“I’m only twenty-five.”

“The kitty earns his whiskers! Oh my god, one day you might even have chest hair!” Lance is cackling at this point.

There’s a grin growing on Keith’s face, too, Lance can see it. “Shut the fuck up.”

“I feel like it’s my duty to make sure you know about all this stuff, _dropout,”_ Lance says affectionately. “Normally, an average teenage boy starts growing hair-”

 _“Stop,”_ Keith is laughing now. “God damn it. Did you know Shiro’s planning to propose?”

Lance’s laughter takes a hold of him for a bit, but he manages to get himself under control for the sake of gossip. “Holy shit,” he wheezes. “Voltron’s biggest bottom bitch, about to propose.”

Keith laughs _really hard_ at that, and Lance’s heart swoops in his chest at seeing that openness on his expression. “I think that’s you, Lance,” Keith counters, and Lance scoffs.

“We all know Hunk gets pegged. According to you, anyway.”

Keith groans. “That was… not my finest moment.”

“I know! You should do it more often. I love watching you make an ass out of yourself.”

Keith grins something sly. “Noted.”

What… what did Lance just do? He feels like he made a mistake, somehow. _That_ smile and Keith is never a great combo. “Wait, don’t become an alcoholic.”

Keith shrugs. “Yeah… you’re right. I could probably just find a therapist to have sex with.”

Lance _burns._ “I was in a low place.” It’s supposed to come out defensive and indignant, but the mirth fades from Keith’s face so Lance must have missed the mark, somehow.

“I know.” His expression grows soft. “I want you to get the help you need no matter what, Lance.”

Something about that feels like a slap on the cheek. “I’m not- like, _broken,_ Keith-”

“No,” Keith says quickly. “That’s not what I meant. Lance, you’re the strongest person I know. And because of that I think you’ve lost more in the war than any of us. And you deserve someone who can make you feel safe again.”

God damn. Not good with words, Lance’s ass. He runs a hand through his hair. “Thanks.”

Keith nods. “But I’m glad you’re not rebounding on your therapist.”

“Shut up.” And they’re laughing again. Lances chest feels fuller than it has in _months._ There’s nothing he wouldn’t trade to feel this way all the time, and that thought flits across his mind… and then comes back in full force for round 2 because Lance did not quite process it the first time.

To feel this way all the time. God, what a dream. Could he really have that?

He stays up all fucking night talking to Keith. Lance doesn’t even realize how long it's been.

“Shit, the sun’s up,” Lance murmurs, squinting as he opens his curtains.

Keith gasps softly. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t know- I’ll try to call you in your day next time.”

Lance’s chest blooms stupidly at the words _next time._ “Yeah, fucking do that, please,” he chuckles, but really he doesn’t mind at all, as long as they get to talk like this. “You look tired, yourself.”

Keith sighs. “We got held up on Planet Y-3-T-47. Some insurgents loyal to Zarkon have been using it as a local base of operations for rebel activity. And they… well. They’d been bombing civilians. I haven’t been getting much time to rest in between all of that.”

Lance’s heart thuds frantically in his chest. He _knew_ Keith was lying earlier. “And you’re here calling me?? Keith, go to sleep! You have to keep yourself safe, you have to-” He cuts himself off before he spirals.

Keith must sense the sudden anxiety. “Lance,” he says gently. “Don’t worry about me. I-”

“Bullshit, Keith! I’m worrying! You can’t telling me you’re dealing with rebels with _bombs_ and- you’re putting yourself in danger and-...” _And I can’t lose you._

Keith smiles at that, the fucking nerve. “I’m going to be fine, Lance.”

“You don’t _know_ that.”

“Actually… I do.”

Oh. Right. That… actually calms Lance down considerably.

Keith notices it. “My life is far from over. There’s a lot of time I have left, Lance. I promise.”

Lance draws in a shaky breath. “You… goddamn, Keith, you’re lucky that you’re the only person I trust to say that.”

Keith’s grin is wolfish. “Perks of spending two years in the rift.”

Lance thinks about that a lot. Keith was… alone for two whole years. He had his mom, but he’d only just met her. And Keith has been alone before, but there’s no way that didn’t hurt like hell, especially after all that Voltron had been through. “That must have been hard.”

Keith snorts. “I had Kosmo, though.” Lance doubts that that’s even a joke. He doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Honestly, R.I.P. to whoever Keith ends up with in the end, because Keith will never love anyone more than he loves his fucking dog. Lance huffs a laugh out anyway.

Lance sighs and flops back on his bed. One of their earlier conversation topics occurs to him. “Shiro’s proposing, huh… you’re not gonna miss the wedding like you’re missing Allura Day, are you?”

Keith looks alarmed. “Of course not.”

Lance smiles before he can help himself. The wedding can’t come faster.

“... Shiro actually probably tops, though,” he concedes after another moment.

“Oh, yeah, Shiro _definitely_ tops.”

-

Shiro’s proposal goes terribly. Like, it all works out, but he makes a giant ass of himself. He enlists Hunk and Lance to help plan out this spontaneous “family picnic” with the crew of the Atlas and Voltron (sans Keith. Not that Lance cares. Not at all. Actually, he doesn’t even notice. Why would he notice something like that? Not at all.)

“Stop moping,” Hunk says, thumping Lance on his back.

“What?”

“You’re moping because everyone’s here and you can’t make eyes at Keith like you normally would.”

Lance scowls. “Am _not._ ”

Hunk smiles, blowing air out through his nose and then taking a seat next to Lance on the playground. There’s a toddler who shoots them a dirty look because together they completely block off one of the platforms.

Hunk slides his fingers up into Lance’s hair and Lance hisses, leaning away because there’s _gel_ in that. “I miss him too, dude. This… almost feels like old times, if we’d had a chance to take a day off back then. Usually everyone’s so busy. And the Allura Day is just… different. This feels special.”

Lance frowns. “Whatever you’re doing, I don’t appreciate it.”

Hunk looks at him, lips twisting around words that he’s very clearly battling with himself over. Lance just waits. And then- “Okay, so I talked to Rachel.”

Lance throws his arms up in the air. “All my siblings are formally regarded as blood traitors and their judgement should not be trusted.”

“She says you stay up all night talking to Keith sometimes, and you never shut up about how worried you are about him.”

“That’s a filthy lie. I’ve only brought him up, like…” Lance thinks. He can… think of many, many times, mortifyingly. “Once or twice.”

“Also, you have a photo of him that you keep in your room.”

“There’s no way she said that because that’s just not fucking _true,”_ Lance scowls, shoving Hunk’s shoulder.

Hunk grins. “Okay, I made that last one up, but you’re blushing.”

“Ugh!”

“I also remember you thinking he was hot.”

_“Ugh!!!”_

Hunk’s voice is buoyant with glee. “Why are you getting so defensive about this? I mean, I agreed with you.”

Lance brings his hands up, pressed together, and leans his face down into them. “Okay - I am _not_ getting defensive, I just don’t like that you’re implying I _like_ him or something-”

“You said it, not me.”

“God damn it, Hunk!”

Hunk laughs, and then utters out a shushing noise as he cradles Lance’s head in his hands and holds him close. “It’s okay. You can tell me all about your boy troubles.”

“You’re basically a local newspaper.”

“But I’m your best friend.”

Shit, he’s got Lance there.

Lance groans and turns his head down into Hunk’s shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t… I haven’t really thought about it. But, um…” He swallows. “Sometimes, when I think about what made me and Allura work, I can’t imagine anyone else being that for me. And then when I’m talking to him… he makes me forget all about any of that.”

_“Awwwwww, oh my god…”_

Lance shoves him and stands up, making for the grass. Hunk follows him, throwing an arm around his shoulders and falling into step beside him. The toddler from before hurriedly taps her friends, who at last have full accessibility to their Lava Monster fortress.

“Lance, I’m really happy for you, dude,” he says softly. “We were kind of worried about you when you said you never planned to go into space again. And I think you deserve to find happiness. You saved the freakin world, man.”

 _“She_ saved the world,” Lance corrects, but it doesn’t hurt inside when he says that anymore. He’s gotten somewhat used to thinking of her in the past tense. “And I _still_ never plan to go into space, because being in space actually _sucks major cock,_ and guess who’s in space!”

“Precisely the cock you want to suck.” Lance shrieks as Pidge appears at his other side. She’s grinning something downright devious.

“That’s not-!!!” He doesn’t even know what to _say_ to that. Lance buries his face in his hands as Hunk shakes with poorly controlled laughter next to him. “That’s- that’s not how I feel about Keith, at _all!”_

“Oh shit, the cock you want to suck is _Keith’s??”_

Lance groans like if he just makes enough noise the situation right now will stop existing. Hunk just nods by way of answering Pidge.

His prayers are answered when Shiro calls them over to the picnic table they’ve occupied, because he wants to pose for a picture, which is code for the proposal scene he’s got planned out.

It’s a nice plan, in theory. They all line up for a photo, in the order of Shiro, James, Lance, Pidge, Romelle, Curtis, Hunk, Nadia, and Ina. Kinkade takes a photo. It’s actually Shiro’s and Curtis’s anniversary celebrating one year today, so Shiro and Curtis will be going through all the pictures because it’s for their camera. Everyone in the photo has a card with either a letter or a question mark on it, and they’ll all hold them up at once so the photo will spell out M-A-R-R-Y-(Curtis is the space)-M-E-?

And then after that they probably kiss or something. Shiro is the only one who thinks there’s anything to be nervous about, because to everyone else it’s pretty obvious Curtis will probably actually die for Shiro.

Shiro made one fatal mistake in his planning, though - he gave the job of designing cards to Lance and Pidge. Which is basically all his fault.

Shiro holds the M, and Ina holds the question mark, because they probably wouldn’t agree to fucking up the proposal. Romelle would have been tricky but she’s still working on her English. James took some persuasion. And everyone else- well, when the photo comes out, and Shiro grabs Curtis’s hand and they go up to Kinkade with the camera (who has the BEST poker face, Lance is a little in love with him for this) Curtis squints at the scene and Shiro blushes something ugly and the picture spells out MEMER-Curtis-Y!?

The next part of the plan is that the cake is supposed to open up with Shiro’s ring inside, but - and this one is _actually_ not anyone’s fault - something goes wrong and the cake fucking explodes all over Shiro and Curtis and Kinkade and the camera. Actually, it could be Shiro’s fault, still, since he put Nadia and Hunk on that. Hunk _obviously_ took over preparation of the cake because Nadia can’t stand cooking - so she tried to make the cake opening up as flashy and dramatic as possible but she is a _pilot_ and not an engineer. It’s just bad leadership. Obviously all Shiro’s fault.

The image of Shiro bright red and covered in cake and kneeling down in front of Curtis with a ring is objectively hilarious and still somehow cute as fuck, though. Curtis says yes and they kiss and it’s all very sweet, and it makes Lance _ache_ inside with a bittersweet throb.

* * *

Lance comes home and is immediately _assaulted_ by raucous noise. He doesn't even have time to register the lights turning on - Hunk claps his hands over his eyes and yells “Surprise!” and there’s a lot of kazoo noises and the unmistakeable intro notes to _Never Gonna Give You Up_ and Lance has a fucking _heart attack._ He jams his elbow backwards on instinct and he grabs for the nearest umbrella in the stand, before Hunk is backing off, holding one hand up and using the other to cradle his side, laughing and begging Lance to _put that away, bro, it’s just us._

With a sigh, Lance drops his arms and tosses the umbrella so it lands on the ottoman nearby - and then tackles Hunk in a hug that _almost_ rivals how hard Hunk squeezes back.

“Happy birthday, Sharpshooter,” Hunk laughs, and Lance could _cry._

“Holy shit, dude, you didn’t have - oh, fuck.” Lance is busy getting his pulse under control as he separates from his best friend. “I - that - I did _not_ expect that.”

“Yeah, that’s the point of a _surprise,_ ” Pidge admonishes, holding a pan full of… full of… “Smile for the camera!” And then she smashes it into his face.

Lance stumbles backwards, trips, falls flat on his ass. Just - “What the _FUCK,_ ” and Hunk laughs and there’s the sound of a shutter going off and - and he can taste _pineapple cream_ on his lips and holy shit. Lance could cry, he loves this stuff, but also - “This is going to make me break out _so bad,_ Pidge,” he scowls, wiping his face off and looking around desperately for a napkin.

Pidge is doubled over in laughter. “That was great, you totally outperformed. This exceeded all my expectations.”

 _“Come here-”_ he wrestles her to the ground to smear frosting on her face. She shrieks and fights back valiantly but Lance is basically twicer her height and there’s nothing she can do. He’s laughing and Hunk eventually pulls him up, Pidge scowling but her eyes twinkling as she wipes creme off her brow.

Holy shit, _everyone_ is here. Romelle leaps onto him next, completely unbothered by the frosting that smears across her clothes as she buries her face into Lance’s chest. Kinkade slaps him on the shoulder, _everyone_ is wishing him a happy 23rd, people he hasn’t seen in forever like Acxa and Vrepit Sal and god, he feels like he’s flying.

As he’s toweling off his face in the bathroom after saying his hellos, he leans back to make eye contact with Hunk in the mirror. “Did you arrange all of this? You? You kept this secret?”

“Actually, Pidge had to confiscate my phone because I kept getting close to telling you,” Hunk admits with a grin. “But we did good, huh?”

Lance nods, agreeing. “Who all made it? Didn’t get a chance to say hi to everyone.”

Hunk blinks and exchanges a glance with Pidge, who is still kneeling in the bathtub and scrubbing at her shirt. “Um… Keith’s not here.”

Lance scowls. “That wasn’t my question-”

“Yeah it was,” Pidge says flatly.

Okay fine. It was. Lance slumps against the sink in defeat.

Hunk chuckles. “Hey. man, he’ll probably call you tonight. I’ll let everyone know to clear out by midnight.”

Lance shakes himself, electing to ignore the wiggly eyebrows Hunk and Pidge are throwing his way. “No way, I haven’t had a proper party in _so_ long. We are doing this _right._ Come on, Pidge, let’s get you a different shirt.”

-

Lance drinks himself stupid.

There are no cake leftovers in the morning when he wakes up with the worst hangover since Coran’s last Nunville Fest. Hunk must have made it out of crack or something, because not even frosting remains on the serving platter. His parents have seemingly done a lot of the cleaning, which is nice but holy shit he owes them. He leans down to peck his mom on the cheek when she sees him entering the living room.

“G’morning. You didn’t have to clean.”

She pats his cheek. “Your phone is in the kitchen drawer, because you threw it out the window last night.”

He blinks. “Oh?”

“Get some rest, Lancito. You exhausted yourself yesterday.” She squeezes his arm quickly and goes back to caring for her newest sprouts. They’re of a plant that Colleen resequenced from another extinct planet, and this is the only batch that’s germinated so far, so he leaves her to it and goes looking for his phone.

The screen is cracked and the battery is dead - and when he charges it up enough to open it, a hazy memory of what happened last night comes back to him.

**Today at 4:07  
**Me:** gues shwere i am  
**Me:** ididnk dink dink im at my hoses ulol  
**Me:** anyway uyou missed one helle of a party  
**Me:** imaing ebineg out where in spave awhen you coulf be here with me  
**Me:** we have m isnmosasssss  
**Me:** beaseu i lve htem  
**Me:** romel eeeeeees a fucking heavyeweirfhgt  
**Me:** you woefidlly hisnk so beaseu shes so tinyy  
**Me:** tutshes sitign here rigtht now taking are of my furknk ass ansd ahe had alt least lieke  
**Me:** twie  
**Me:** a lot  
**Me:** more than me i m ena  
**Me:** ke tiehtehh  
**Me:** wi hs you were here assholye  
**Me:** fi you dofnh wihs smy happb it fthday in he next iminute  
**Me:** im ognna throw nyt phoen out the wiwndw**

He guesses he must have thrown his phone out the window then, because there isn’t any response from Keith, not even now eight hours later. 

Lance sighs. 

Keith’s probably busy, or something. 

* * *

The wedding comes up slow. Lance won’t admit it to any of his friends, but working at the farm is _boring._ The days all blend and blur together under the sun - he loves his family, and there’s really nothing else he’d rather be doing with his time, but he wonders if this is going to just… be _it_ for the rest of his life.

He hangs out with Hunk or with Pidge, schedules permitting. He gets to talk to Shiro pretty frequently, because Shiro is somehow terrified that choosing the wrong color napkins will end his engagement - in the wrong way. Every decision about wedding planning is triple checked and run through all of team Voltron repeatedly. Even Keith isn’t spared, up distributing supplies to systems in entirely different quarters of the universe.

Or so Lance has gathered from sneaking glances at Shiro’s tablet. Not that he would know personally. Given how Keith still hasn’t answered his texts from his birthday party. But whatever.

Hunk updates Lance on his planning, since his chefs are heading the catering for Shiro’s wedding. With guests from all over the universe comes food from all over the universe, and it’s culminated over the months into pretty much Hunk’s dream project. Pidge asks him to come help out at the Garrison at some point as August sets in, so he packs up some basic shit - toothbrush, clothes - and goes.

People are already coming in for the event, which is scheduled for mid-September. As the universe’s most celebrated hero, Shiro’s wedding is practically an intergalactic holiday. And in all the lists and the luggage and room bookings and transportation arrangements and general _management,_ Lance misses one important name - doesn’t take any note of it until the day they land on Earth, just a week before Shiro’s wedding.

He doesn’t know how it slips past him. He knows he inventoried them because everything in his itinerary checks out, but he must have _really_ gotten lost in the rhythm of things - because when he lands his eyes on the newest arrival, his mouth _drops open_ at the familiar ship standing proudly in the landing bay. Its sleek purple-black finish. The flawless engineering that he knows to be Pidge’s personal work. The way it’s obviously designed for speed and agility- the kind of interceptor that would be unstoppable if her pilot was skilled enough.

Which he is.

Before Lance can finish processing this, there’s a bright blue flash and then Keith is standing in front of him, hand curled tightly into Kosmo’s fur. Personnel are running around to account for cargo and someone’s shouting that Keith hasn’t been screened and someone else is running a sanitizer bar over that _massive_ wolf and Lance blinks and looks down at his tablet and _yup -_ Keith Kogane, sharp and clear right up top.

“Hey,” Keith says, grinning.

Lance’s response is automatic. “Hey.” He’s breathless. Why is he breathless?

Keith pouts, but mockingly. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

Lance’s mouth wavers as it tries to settle on a good response that’ll make him sound cool and not like an idiot. Kosmo lets out a loud bark that Lance _flinches_ at and then - apparently not understanding that he weighs well over 300 pounds - stands up and brings his paws down on Lance’s shoulders, knocking him to the ground. Keith laughs as all the breath whooshes out of Lance’s lungs, doing absolutely _nothing_ to save Lance from his cosmic wolf’s space slobber, the _bastard._

“Kosmo, Kosmo _stop,_ oh my god-” Kosmo whines as Lance shoves him off and stands back up, hair all messed up and face wet from Kosmo’s affection. “Ugh.” He uses both hands to scratch behind Kosmo’s ears, whose mouth drops open. His tail wags so hard he knocks a sanitizer bar out of one of the garrison personnel’s hands.

Keith laughs. Lance scowls at him. “You know, just because you’re Voltron’s cool hotshot leader, doesn’t mean you get to skip customs,” he says pointedly. Keith rolls his eyes and steps away so he can get properly screened, nodding at Kosmo to follow him.

Lance takes that moment to breathe.

His eyes trail up and down Keith's form. He’s in a new Blade uniform - his hair is braided sloppily and it looks downright sinful. Lance swallows against his dry throat as he drinks in Keith’s biceps, his _thighs-_ Keith turns right then and Lance looks away hurriedly, praying Keith hadn’t caught him staring.

When Keith’s cleared, he comes right back over to Lance and crosses his arms, smiling. “You gonna show me to where I’m staying?”

Lance scowls, and then takes the opportunity to punch Keith lightly on the shoulder. “Asshole, you never texted me back,” he bites, and then gestures for Keith to follow him as he makes for the exit.

He manages to catch Keith’s eyes widening before he turns away. “Shit, Lance-” there’s a hand on his elbow that slows Lance down a little, but other than that he ignores it as he leads Keith to the shuttle stop. “I’m sorry. It was your birthday, right? I - I totally forgot.”

Lance had been a hundred percent willing to let it go, but for some reason hearing those words from Keith’s mouth stings a little. He shrugs, dropping down onto a bench to wait for the next shuttle to come through. Keith has the _audacity_ to sit not just next to Lance, but turned so that he’s facing him as well.

“I’m actually sorry. Lance. Look at me.”

Lance’s eyes slide over and - fuck, Keith is just so beautiful. His jaw. His scar. The way his hair falls over his eyes. God, his eyes - liquid and dark and endless. Lance snorts. “Whatever. It’s not a big deal.” He really does mean it - and if he has any grudge left about Keith’s radio silence, it melts away as soon as Keith smiles at him.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Let me buy you dinner to make up for it. And we can catch up,” Keith suggests, still smiling.

Lance’s lips curve up on their own. “I threw my phone out the window for you.”

“Aw, romantic,” Keith says, so so so quietly, and as soon as Lance processes that he smushes his hand into Keith’s face and shoves him away, much to Keith’s laughter. “I’m sorry. I’m just joking, Lance. _Lance._ ” He grabs Lance’s hands to still them, unfortunately managing to get a full view of the grin splitting Lance’s face open. “Dinner?”

“Better be one hell of a dinner, Team Leader,” Lance challenges, jutting his chin out.

“I don’t do things by halves, McClain,” Keith promises. Lance’s heart thumps wildly in his chest.

He’s saved from having to respond by the shuttle pulling in right then. “Shuttle!” Lance snatches his hands back and eyes the single backpack Keith is carrying. “Let’s get your oodles and oodles of luggage to your apartment.”

-

Keith takes Lance out to the downtown waterfront and books out a pavilion seat at a riverside restaurant. The specialty is seafood and holy shit, Keith really does _not_ do things by halves - every flavor melts into bliss on Lance’s tongue.

“Fuuuck,” Lance groans, shoveling rice and shrimp into his mouth. “This place is amazing.”

“Nice right? Ezor recommended it to me.” Keith is sitting next to Lance at a table with four seats. Lance wonders if that means anything. It probably doesn’t? It’s just - if _he_ had sat down second, he probably would have taken the seat _across_ from Keith? But thinking about that means acknowledging the growing, clawing feeling in his chest and he’d rather just enjoy his shrimp, so he pushes it out of his mind. “I’m surprised you don’t know of it, actually, considering you _live_ here,” Keith is saying, voice teasing.

Lance sticks his tongue out. “Mi Madre’s cooking is unbeatable, so sue me.” Although - not that he’d ever say this out loud - but this dinner comes pretty damn close.

Keith raises his eyebrows at that. “I’d love to try,” he says softly, hesitantly - and Lance elbows him.

“You will never be the same, Keith. Not even Hunk could compare.”

“That’s a bold claim.”

“I mean it. Come over some time, and you’ll see.” Come on Lance, stay cool about this. Friends invite friends over to their places all the time. Be cool. Be cool. Be cool.

Keith gives him a smile that absolutely _decimates_ Lance as he says, “Really?”

Lance nods, suddenly struggling to swallow his food.

Keith chuckles lightly and then picks up his champagne flute. “I’ll hold you to that.” A phrase which unfortunately sends Lance’s mind right into the gutter - Jesus, he’s a mess. He manages to swallow his bite and pick up his flute in time to clink glasses with Keith’s, using the motion of taking a sip to cover up his blushing.

They tip double, because Lance has worked enough customer service jobs to know how much of a blessing a big tip is. It’s quiet but not awkward as they walk together through downtown, towards the train that’ll take them both to the Garrison apartment complex - although Lance doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to turn in for the night knowing Keith is on the same planet. Inside the same _apartment complex._ He considers inviting Keith to his room to watch movies or something because he _doesn’t want to say goodbye yet,_ but Keith has yawned three times in the last sixty seconds so Lance just says “good night” and lets him go.

* * *

So this…. is a thing. This is a thing he can’t really hide from anymore. He wants Keith, maybe even more than he ever wanted Allura - god, he never wants to let Keith go. And… Lance is not _blind,_ okay. He is _positive_ Keith has been flirting with him. The smiles and the side comments and the goddamn _smirks_ that send Lance’s braincells scattering. Confidence is _sexy_ on Keith. It’s almost overwhelming.

Lance doesn’t know what he’s going to actually _do_ about it, though. The very notion that this could turn out anything like what happened with Allura - or imagining that Keith maybe doesn’t like him at all, and he’s misreading the whole situation - or picturing having to see Keith off mission after mission after mission and not knowing if he’s coming back - it kills him. It _kills_ him, that awful feeling churning in his chest like sweet, agonizing honey.

As the guests start pouring in, the day of the rehearsal sneaks up on him. Lance is busy in his work and his feelings and before he knows it he’s dressed up to the nines, ogling Keith from across the venue - Keith’s hands are planted firmly on Shiro’s shoulders as he talks to him, who is having some kind of nervous meltdown, but Lance barely notices, if he’s being honest. Keith’s bangs are… different. Not slicked back, entirely, but out of his face. His hair is braided loosely but neatly, which is probably Romelle’s work. Or maybe Keith learned to braid? Lance doubts that, though.

Keith’s tux is a deep blue. Shiro’s wedding theme is white, peach, and dark blue, so it matches and all, it’s just - Lance didn’t really expect that..? He doesn’t think he’s _ever_ seen Keith wearing blue, unless you count the pale purple-blue accents on his Marmora uniform, which Lance does not. They have their own charm, but this is… wow. That random tweet he saw in 10th grade was right, men _do_ look more attractive in blue.

It’s Pidge who breaks his reverie. “See something you like?”

Lance scowls, turning to her, eyeing her tux up and down. “Is there a memo I didn’t get? Are we all supposed to be wearing tuxedos?”

She snorts. “What’s the difference, anyway?”

Lance’s mouth _drops open._ “How could you - how-” He splutters for a second, bringing his hands up and pressing them together. “Lord, give me strength. The _lapels,_ Pidge. The _buttons._ ”

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t see a difference. How’s Shiro doing? Holding up?” There’s a smirk on her face as her eyes travel across the venue.

“He’s, uh…” Lance doesn’t know how to answer that. “Um… better than… when Allura USB stick download-uploaded him into his clone body?”

“What a high bar.”

“I’ve never seen him this frazzled,” Lance admits.

Pidge laughs. “God, I can’t wait to see how all his pictures come out.”

“Probably still good. He’s annoyingly photogenic.”

There’s a pause. “Are we still talking about Shiro?”

“What- yes?” Lance blinks at her. “He’s a very attractive human being.”

“Really? Cuz you were looking in his direction earlier, but I don’t think it was Shiro you had your eyes on.” She sends him a sugar-sweet smile. Like poison.

Lance hunches his shoulders slightly in defensiveness. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” and to his surprise Pidge tips back her head and _groans._

“How long are you gonna keep playing stupid, dude? You’ve been thirsting after him since Voltron.”

_“Excuse me???”_

“I said what I said!” Her voice drops low to imitate Lance. “Roger that, team leader. Where are you going, Keith? Where’s Keith? I thought _Keith_ was gonna be here! Blah blah blah, Keith.”

Lance makes an affronted sound. “How dare you! That was _not_ the same.” He crosses his arms.

“And now you’re imitating him. You know, psychologically, that means you want to impress him.”

Lance uncrosses his arms.

“You’re _hopeless._ ”

“ _You’re_ hopeless,” Lance shoots back. Pidge rolls her eyes.

“Look, if you want my advice-”

“I do not.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed about it. Sorry to break it to you but your old girlfriend’s dead.” Lance frowns at her. “And no one’s going to criminalize you for wanting to move on. You know who else fell in love and wasn’t able to see it to the end? Shiro. You know who’s getting married to someone else today and will probably live a long happy life? Shiro. No one gets it right their first time, but Keith…” She pauses, choosing her words carefully. “I think he talks to you more often than he talks to Shiro. He can’t keep his eyes off you when we’re all together. He respects you, and… the two of you are on, like. Equal footing. So.” A spark enters her eyes. “If you want to bone him, that’s totally your prerogative.”

Lance groans and slumps into a nearby chair. Pidge joins him in the seat next to him. “It’s. Not easy.”

Pige raises an eyebrow. “Okay. Why not?”

“Because… I don’t want to lose him,” he says, so quiet he’s not sure it makes it across the distance between them, but Pidge seems to understand. “It would be different if it was… earlier. Because we were. Young. And we would have just been fooling around.” He pauses. “Not that that would have ever happened. It’s just that things were easier when we were fighting for our lives, almost..? Now it’s… there’s all these feelings and it’s… messy…”

Pidge nods slowly. “Alright. Well, do what you want. I’m just…” She looks him over. “I just don’t want you to hang onto what could have happened with Allura for the rest of your life.”

Lance smiles. “No worries, Pidge. Let’s go calm Shiro down and remind him he doesn’t have to really make a life-changing decision until tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly the reason this took so long was because I was trying SO HARD to get some smut in this chapter BUT I CAN'T HELP IT... THEY R IN LOVE...... I THRIVE ON THE PINING??? soon. I promise. i PROMISE. feel free to hound me about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Lowkey considering writing a garrison klance prequel to this fic but i guess it would be more gen not klance.
> 
> Anyway, please kudos and comment if you enjoyed, and subscribe if you wanna know when the next chapter drops!! <33


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